


Nothing Lasts Forever, Except for You and Me

by brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly



Series: Reunion [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 11:41:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3849628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly/pseuds/brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I suck at summaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Lasts Forever, Except for You and Me

“So, uh, Mickey’s been comin’ over a lot lately,” Fiona said casually.

The two of them were alone in the kitchen, and she’d been waiting to corner him for days now.

They were busy with the dishes, and at Fiona’s words, Ian looked up at her. Fiona’s gaze was fixed on the plate she was scrubbing, and he could tell she was trying to sound casual.

He heaved an exasperated sigh.

It’d been a week since he and Mickey had decided to try again. Every night since then, Mickey had come over after dinner. They’d decided it was better to do it at his place; Mickey had told him in a matter-of-fact tone that if he showed up at the Milkovich house, Svetlana was likely to brain him with a hammer, or something.

The advantage of Mickey coming here was that they avoided any potential murder attempts. The down side was that there was zero privacy. And that he had to deal with questions like this.

“Yeah, I noticed that, too,” Ian said dryly.

“You two back together now?”

“We’re tryin’ again,” he told her.

Fiona finally looked up, abandoning her attempts at appearing neutral. Now, her expression was one of concern.

“Sure that’s a good idea?”

“There are... a lot of things I’m not sure about,” Ian said quietly. “Mickey was never one of them.”

It looked like Fiona wanted to say more when they heard someone at the front door.

Ignoring the worried look she sent in his direction, Ian called out, “I’ll get it.”

He was just busy drying his hands when he heard Mickey talking to one of his siblings.

“Your brother home?”

“In the kitchen,” Carl replied, not needing clarification on who Mickey was talking about. The kid didn’t sound surprised to see Mickey, even though he and Ian had agreed to try and keep things on the downlow as much as possible.

“Thanks.”

Hurriedly tossing the towel on the counter, Ian hurried to intercept Mickey. He could feel the weight of Debbie and Fiona’s gazes on him, but he focused on Mickey.

“Hey,” Ian said with a small smile. It felt awkward being at the centre of his siblings’ attention, and he just wanted to grab Mickey’s hand and sprint for his bedroom. Instead, he ducked his head to kiss Mickey gently on the cheek in greeting.

“Hi.” Mickey returned his smile, but there was something off about it. Still, his hand reached up to touch that spot on his cheek that Ian’s lips had just brushed across just a moment ago, it seemed like an involuntary reaction.

Before Ian could drag Mickey off, Fiona came up behind him.

“Hey, Mickey. Long time, no see,” she said, her voice not as friendly as it could’ve been.

“Yeah, been a while,” he agreed. Mickey wouldn’t quite meet her gaze.

Shooting Fiona a warning look, Ian reached for Mickey’s hand.

“C’mon,” he said, tugging Mickey forward. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“Put a sock on the doorknob, or somethin’, so I don’t walk in on you two havin’ sex,” Carl called out as they headed up the stairs.

_Jesus Christ_. Ian cringed with embarrassment. It wasn’t so much at the idea of one his siblings walking in on them having sex; God knew, they’d all seen each other in varying stages of undress. But... he and Mickey had barely touched each other since the night they’d agreed to give this another shot. It worried him.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he said once he’d shut the door behind them.

“It’s cool.” Instead of sitting on the bed, though, like he’d done every night for the last few days, Mickey had turned his attention to the posters on the walls. His eyes seemed to linger on the one bearing the marine in uniform.

“I’d have thought you’d have gotten rid of these by now,” he said after a few seconds.

“Yeah, I probably should.” Ian watched Mickey carefully for a moment. “But I dunno what I’d replace ‘em with.”

A wry expression crossed Mickey’s face before he could hide it.

“What?” Ian asked as Mickey turned his back on him. “What’s with the face?”

“It’s the one I was born with, man.”

“No, if you got somethin’ to say, then you should say it.” Ian reached out to turn Mickey to face him; it stung when Mickey shrugged him off. “You said we were gonna try this again, but you barely let me touch you. I talk to you, but you don’t say anything back.”

And, true to form, Mickey said nothing.

Ian was on the verge of losing his temper when Mickey finally spoke.

“Are the posters the only things you’re hangin’ onto ‘cause you’re waitin’ to upgrade?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Ian abruptly spun around, and ripped one of the enlistment posters off the wall, moving on to the one for the marines. “Is this what you want?” he asked over the sound of tearing paper. “’Cause I don’t need these stupid fuckin’ posters; I need you!” He turned to glare at Mickey.

“Yeah. ‘Til you don’t.” Mickey rubbed a shaky hand over his face. “I’m... I’m gonna go.”

“Wait, that’s it? You’re just gonna give up?” Ian demanded.

“No, man. I’ll probably be here as long as you want me. But I-I just wanna go for a walk, or somethin’. Clear my head. I’ll call you later.”

Ian didn’t try and stop him from leaving.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’d been three days since Mickey walked out, and Ian felt like he was losing his mind. All he wanted to do was barge over to the Milkovich house, and demand that Mickey talk to him.

The only thing that stopped him was Mickey’s words replaying in his head.

_I’ll probably be here as long as you want me._

He’d sounded so... defeated, in that moment.

A year ago, Ian would’ve given anything to hear those words from Mickey. The insecurity of their earlier years had had him constantly pushing for reassurance that Mickey was committed to their relationship. And now...

A sudden knock at the front door distracted him. Ian pulled out his phone to check the time. 2:43. Who’d be coming over her now?

_Maybe it was Mickey._

Hurrying to answer the door, Ian blinked in surprise at who was standing on the front porch.

“Mandy?”

“Hey, assface.”

He had his arms wrapped around her before she could say anything else. Squeezing her tight, he lifted Mandy off her feet. Ian could feel her burying her face in the crook of her neck, feel the warmth of her tears against his skin; he was crying, too.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered as he finally set her back on the ground. He wanted to look at her, but he hated the idea of letting her go, even for a minute.

Finally, she gently pushed him away. Her makeup was smudged.

“Missed you, too,” she said with a watery smile. “Now, you gonna invite me in, or we gonna stand out here an’ freeze our asses off?”

They spent hours catching up, and as the time passed, it felt like Mandy’d never been gone. The connection was still there.

“Mick told me you guys were tryin’ to work things out,” Mandy said after a brief lull in conversation. “Which reminds me.” She leaned over to punch him in the shoulder. Hard.

“Ow,” he yelped. “What was that for?”

“For breakin’ my brother’s heart,” she told him with a scowl.

“I didn’t mean to,” he murmured.

Expression softening, Mandy reached out to rub that same spot she’d hit.

“Yeah, I know. But...” She hesitated. “You guys are okay now, though, right?”

“Haven’t talked to him for a couple days,” Ian admitted. “I... See, that’s why I broke it off,” he tried to explain. “Everything just ends up hurtin’ him. He looks at me, and I can see that _I’m_ the one hurtin’ him. I hate it.”

“Pretty sure it hurts worse when you’re not around,” Mandy said after a moment. There was understanding in her eyes, and I was struck again by how much he’d missed her. He took hold of her hand, and gave it a squeeze.

“I’m really glad you’re back, Mandy.”

“Yeah, well, someone needs to talk some sense into you idiots,” she said with an affectionate smile.

_Yeah, somebody really did._

_\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Arriving at the Milkovich house a few hours later, Ian ignored the tingle of apprehension that skated its way up his spine. Not just at the prospect of seeing Svetlana, although a hammer wielding Russian was nothing to scoff at. But he wasn’t sure if he was pushing too hard again. Maybe Mickey needed more time to think things through.

_Well, he was here now._

Ian had been sure to take a couple steps away from the door after knocking, just in case the person answering proved less than welcoming.

And, as Ian’s luck would have it, it was Svetlana who pulled the door open.

“You,” she spat furiously. “You are not welcome here! Go away!”

“Who is it?” he heard Mickey’s voice call.

“Crazy Carrot Boy,” Svetlana shouted back. “I do not want him here!”

“It’s not your fuckin’ house,” Mickey reminded her harshly.

Ian flinched at that. She had to hate to have that constantly hanging over her head. He opened his mouth to apologise when Mickey appeared at the front door. There were rings around his eyes, and he had rough stubble on his cheeks.

“I do not care! You want to talk, you do it outside!” And with that, Svetlana planted her hands on Mickey’s shoulders and unceremoniously shoved him outside, slamming the door behind him.

“Bitch,” Mickey grumbled. There wasn’t any real heat in his words.

“Sorry, I should’ve called first,” Ian began when Mickey waved him off.

“Don’t gotta keep apologisin’, Gallagher.”

Stepping past him, Mickey moved to take a seat on the front steps. He pulled out a cigarette, taking a long drag, before offering it to Mickey.

“Thanks,” Ian muttered. More to have something to do with his hands, he brought the cigarette to his lips.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, passing the cigarette back and forth between them a few times. Finally, when Mickey stubbed the thing out, Ian opened his mouth to speak.

“I was thinkin’ ‘bout what you said. Y’know, ‘bout the posters. For a long time, all I wanted was the army, an’ you.” Ian turned to meet Mickey’s stare. “I lost both. I fucked up, an’... I can’t ever get back what I had. The army thing is over; I can live with that. I’ll find somethin’ new. But you an’ me. Mick, you’re... you’re everything to me.”

“You left,” Mickey whispered.

“I know. But, if you let me, maybe I can make it up to you.”

“You know how to make banana pancakes?” Mickey asked after a moment. His attempt to lighten the mood made Ian smile.

“I’ll make you all the pancakes you want,” Ian promised in a choked voice.

This time, when he reached out to put his arm around Mickey, the other man didn’t flinch. Instead, he leaned into the contact. And for the first time in days, Ian felt like he could breathe again.


End file.
